Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Hungary and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Gladiators to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Martian. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Freddie Wadling,
Junior Murvin,
Masters at Work,
Ten City,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Moody Blues,
Porter Ricks,
Idris Muhammad,
Prince Buster,
The Litter,
The Fortunes,
Hardrive,
Black Bananas,
Kayak,
Harry Pussy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Gap Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Buckinghams,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Names,
Swans,
The Associates,
Curtis Mayfield,
Trumans Water,
The Cramps,
Half Japanese,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Vogues,
The Modern Lovers,
Nico,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Althea and Donna,
Faraquet,
Arab on Radar,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Can,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Slackers,
The Velvet Underground,
Brick,
T. Rex,
Fatback Band,
Rapeman,
The Toasters,
Audionom,
Marc Almond,
Sällskapet,
Khruangbin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lower 48,
The Sonics,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Country Teasers,
LL Cool J,
Nirvana,
Yazoo,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.